


Isolated Cases

by ETraytin



Category: The West Wing
Genre: COVID-19, Election 2020 (sort of), F/M, Quarantine, and dreams of a good candidate to vote for, basically just fluff, fic set in present day, ignoring the weird offset election schedule because i want to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETraytin/pseuds/ETraytin
Summary: Fourteen days in self-isolation is a long time. It's a very long time when you're running a presidential campaign, and a very, very long time if you're a bit of a hypochondriac. A talk with family and friends helps Josh scrape himself off the ceiling.
Relationships: Danny Concannon/C. J. Cregg, Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 17
Kudos: 136





	Isolated Cases

**Author's Note:**

> Day Two of Covid-19 self-isolation, and it is SUPER BORING. I put out a call for prompts on Tumblr because I wasn't feeling it on any of my WIPs. This is for Anonymous, who asked for "West Wing gang on Day 14 of self-quarantine." Stay safe and stay home as much as you can, friends!

“Does my face look flushed to you?” Josh demanded. 

  
“Well, you’ve been yelling for the past ten minutes, so...” Donna pointed out. 

  
Josh frowned, leaning closer to his laptop. “No, I’m being serious. Do I look flushed to you? I feel hot.” 

  
Donna flicked her eyes down, studying him through the screen. “Nope,” she decided. “Just normally enraged by politics. Did you take your temperature?” 

  
“Well yeah, of course I took my temperature,” he replied, grimacing. “I took it three times.” 

  
“And what did it say?” she asked patiently. 

  
“98.9,” he admitted. “But I normally run cool! That’s high for me! I'm almost sixty years old, I am nearly in the high-risk pool.”

  
“Are you coughing?” 

  
“No, but my throat feels scratchy.” 

  
She smiled faintly. “Did I mention the part where you’ve been yelling for ten minutes?”

  
“Well I can’t help it!” he insisted. “We’re less than four months from the convention, we haven’t sewn up the nomination, we can’t hold a single goddamn rally or let the candidate shake anybody’s hand, we lose every news cycle to a new report about how sneezing is bad for you, I’m four hundred miles away from you and the kids and I can’t come home, the SATs are canceled so god knows what that’ll do for Jo’s college search-” 

  
“Josh,” Donna began gently, then more insistently. “Josh! JOSHUA! Calm down, take a breath!” She smiled when he subsided, for all he was still glaring at the screen. “I know it’s frustrating, and I miss you too, but it’s going to be okay,” she promised. “Sam's the prohibitive favorite at this point, and the virtual Q&As have been very well-received. I've got data here showing a solid fifteen point lead in primary states that have yet to vote, and twenty-five points against the Republican candidate. Everything we're doing is working,” she reminded him.

  
“Not well enough!” Josh insisted. “I mean, how do we know? Maybe people aren't answering their phones. The only in-person polling they can do is from people too stupid to stay home, so that's gotta be skewed, right?”

"I think it's a pretty good indicator still,” Donna told him patiently. “And yes, the SAT was canceled, but that just puts us in the same boat as thousands of other families. Jo has a 4.0 GPA and great extracurriculars, plus a letter of recommendation from Josiah Bartlet. I think she's going to be just fine.”

  
“Maybe,” Josh had to assent. “I feel like I have body aches. Body aches are a symptom, right?”

  
Donna's eyes sharpened. “Where are they at?”

  
“My lower back is killing me,” he informed her, “and my shoulders.”

  
She eased back. “Have you been using the lumbar cushion?” she asked archly. “And how many hours have you been hunched over that screen?”

  
“What else is there to do?” Josh demanded, skirting the pillow question entirely.

  
“How about some exercise? You guys are in a three bedroom suite, right? There's room to at least do stretching. Oh, CJ's pinging me, I'll patch her in.”

  
Donna tapped a few keys and the screen split, now showing both her and a somewhat disheveled CJ. “Christ,” CJ muttered, brushing her hair flat, “I didn't realize we were video calling.”

  
Josh grinned at her, happy to see at least one person less put together than himself. “Hey CJ, long time no see? Are those your pajamas?”

CJ glared at him. “I'm in quarantine, what do I have to get dressed up for?”

  
“Are you back in the States now?” Donna asked. “Did you have any trouble?”

  
“Not much, all the restrictions are on Europe, but we're still supposed to quarantine for fourteen more days.” CJ adjusted the camera up so only her head and neck were showing. In the background, Danny was wandering around the kitchen in a pair of University of California boxer shorts, apparently unaware of the webcam. “How's the campaign?”

  
“Stalled,” Josh groused. “Dead in the water. Momentumless.”

  
“That's the spirit!” Sam told him cheerfully, coming from his bedroom and fastening his cuffs as he leaned over Josh's shoulders. “Josh has been talking to Toby,” he confided to the women onscreen. “I think we'll have to stop him.”

  
“Sounds like a good idea, Mr. Senator,” Donna agreed, grinning.

  
“You'll probably have to tie them both down in separate rooms,” CJ advised. “Long time no see, by the way. You're looking remarkably happy for a man in quarantine with his campaign staff.”

  
“That's because I have America in my heart,” Sam told her with mock gravity. “Hi, Danny!”

  
CJ glanced down at her own screen and abruptly yanked the webcam focus back onto herself. “Hi Sam!” Danny's voice echoed over the line. “You should be nicer to the press pool.”

  
“They're never nice to me back!” Sam pointed out. “I'm having a lot more luck with the women's magazines.”

  
“I bet you are,” CJ cackled. “Hey, have any of you heard from Abbey and Jed?”

  
“They're all right,” Donna reported. “Zoey, Charlie and their kids are out with them, and that farm is so remote it's about the safest place they could be. Abbey says they've got enough canned goods in the basement for a year , if you don't mind a lot of apple-based dishes.”

  
“And apple based trivia, I'm sure,” Josh put in. “How about you, you're not going out, are you?”

  
“I'm being very safe,” Donna assured him. “I'm from Wisconsin, we stock up when there's a storm coming. Hey, Garret!” she called, snagging a fast-moving blur behind her chair. “Say hi to Dad and everybody!”

  
Garret leaned down into the frame, all lanky body and light brown hair and a dimple just like his dad when he grinned. “Hi Dad and everybody! Hey Dad, I can use your car while you're gone, right? I promise not to go where there are people.”

  
“What?” Josh squawked. “My car? No!”

  
“We'll talk about it later, kiddo,” Donna told Garret, shooing him away.

  
“Donna!” Josh protested.

  
“Listen, mister, you haven't been stuck in the house for fourteen days with two bored teenagers,” Donna reminded him. “Even the internet has stopped being enough. It's your own damn fault for buying that middle-age crisis testosterone-mobile.”

Josh frowned and tried to ignore the fact that CJ was already laughing. “Fine, but when our insurance rates skyrocket, I'm going to be the one saying I told you so.”

  
“That's a price I'm willing to let you pay,” Donna replied, serene once again. “You guys have another Q&A in a couple of hours, right?”

  
“It's on healthcare in America, so it should be a barn-burner,” Sam agreed. “Are you going to watch?”

  
“Oh, I have a list of questions,” CJ assured him smoothly.

  
Sam's eyes widened a little. “That sounds a little terrifying.”

  
“I like to think of it as getting you prepared for the big chair,” CJ told him. “You'll do fine. Josh, don't let him have any more coffee.”

  
“I'll drink it all myself,” Josh promised.

  
“Josh!” Donna protested.

  
“Good man. Good luck!” CJ called cheerfully. “We're rooting for you!”

  
“Just make sure you vote for me!” Sam called back as CJ's window blinked out. “I'm gonna go make some coffee,” he muttered, wandering off into the kitchen.

  
“Still feeling warm?” Donna asked when it was just the two of them again.

  
“Not as much,” Josh admitted rolling his shoulders. “Still pretty stiff, though. I miss your backrubs.”

  
“As soon as you can get home, I'll make sure you get one,” she promised. “Go take a long shower and some Advil, it'll help.”

  
“I miss you, too,” he told her seriously. “This sucks.”

  
“Yeah,” she sighed, slumping visibly. “But it's not forever. Take care of yourself, okay? Come home soon.”

  
“Doing my best,” he promised. “But next time we get quarantined, I'm bringing you with me. Love you.”

  
“Sounds like fun,” she laughed. “Love you too. Go do a job.” The picture winked out. Josh took his temperature again. 98.9. Still okay for now. How long was this thing going to last?


End file.
